Page 55 of Ice Cold Heart
Shortly after, Dad declared he was stuffed and suddenly brunch was over. He started gathering plates, but I shooed him into the living room to watch the football game. Dad would be asleep on the couch in minutes, and I’d have the chance to talk to Cole, for better or worse.
Instead, he invited Cole into the living room with him.
Cole quirked a brow at me, asking if I wanted help, but I shook my head. It was a simple matter to put away the food and load the dishwasher. Dad and Cole could have their manly bonding time.
I was elbow deep in warm, soapy water when I sensed someone behind me. As I turned, Cole caught me around the waist and pinned me between him and the counter. With his hips pressed into me, I could clearly feel the results of all his teasing during brunch.
“What are you doing?” I hissed. “My dad could walk in here at any second.”
“You never answered my question, Avery. Is this what you want?”
The dark flare of possession in his gaze lit me up, but I raised my chin and pushed back. “If I wanted an easy fuck, I’d hit up one of the infamous Kappa parties for something quick and dirty.”
“Avery, when I fuck you, it won’t be easy and it won’t be quick, but it’s sure as hell going to be dirty. Want to hear another secret?” He threaded his fingers through my hair, tightening his grip until he forced my head to tilt. The position gave him access to my neck, and he curled his tongue along the pounding pulse point below my ear, making me shudder.
“I dream of seeing your red lipstick smeared all over my cock while I fuck your pretty mouth.”
My breath caught at the image—one I’d pictured myself—and Cole didn’t miss the hitch.
He grinned against my throat. “You like that, don’t you, Avery? You like the idea of being on your knees swallowing my cock like a good girl.”
Holy fuck, I was not prepared for Cole’s mouth. Both the words coming out of it and the way he dragged his lips across me like he was painting the thoughts on my skin. I swayed toward him, panting and desperate for more contact, but his grip stopped me from finding relief. If he could get me this worked up with only a few sentences, I was doomed.
My thighs shook, and if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around my waist, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold myself up. Doomed or not, I was convinced no one else could make me feel the way he did.
“Yes.”
He growled a sound of satisfaction. “I’ll worship every inch of you until you’re trembling and begging me for more.”
“I don’t beg.” My breathless response wasn’t very convincing. What little control I’d clawed back was quickly swept away with another pass of his tongue and a tug on my hair, stopping just short of pain.
“You will.”
21
“Iswear to God, Marco, if you don’t stop opening and closing the shade, I’m never bringing you to a conference again.”
He grinned from his window seat on the plane, but mercifully stopped the repetitive motion. “Lies. I’m your favorite.”
Second favorite, but he didn’t need to know Cole was above him in rank. “That’s why I gave you the window.”
Just the thought of Cole had me itching to pull my phone out to see if he’d responded to my last message. The exorbitant WiFi fee kept my hands firmly in my lap, but I took note of the urge. Again. We were on attempt number twenty-three for the two-hour flight home.
Marco twisted to face me. “I can’t believe you talked Seb into letting us both go on this trip instead of him.”
“It wasn’t hard when he had severe food poisoning.” I narrowed my eyes at Marco. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
He clutched his chest and gasped. “I would never.” With a grin, he pulled a book from the seatback pocket in front of him and proceeded to ignore me.
I hadn’t seen Cole in almost two weeks after he’d left my dad’s house on Christmas. Shortly after his promise to make me beg, Dad had yelled for Cole to grab him a soda. Nothing like an estranged parent to interrupt sexy time. Cole rejoined him on the couch, and we spent the rest of the afternoon watching hometown hero Derrick Asher and the New York Knights absolutely crush San Francisco.
Cole had left after the game, claiming he needed a nap, but the hungry look he gave me on the way out offered a clear invitation. One I surprised myself by reluctantly declining in favor of spending Dad’s rare day off with him.
Had I known how long it would be before Cole could follow through on his promise, I would have dragged him upstairs immediately.
Marco wiggled again, accidentally kicking me in my tiny amount of airline space and pulling me out of my head. Yes, he was one of my favorite people, but I’d given him the window seat because his long legs didn’t fit anywhere else. He needed his leg space plus mine and the empty seat between us. I could probably credit his incessant fidgeting for that rare free spot.
We’d been gone for over a week attending the AWWP bookfair, the biggest conference for academic writing in the country. They were primarily geared toward literary journals, but the attendee list included a robust collection of university newspapers. Despite the TU Post’s small size, Seb had managed to secure funding for travel, fees, and a table during the exhibition.